


Chained Dreams

by petals (dean_colette)



Series: Chains and Wings [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Additional Tags to Be Added, Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Alternate Universe – Demons, Demon AU, Dreams, Emotional Slow Burn? Is that a thing, Explicit Sexual Content, Fantasy, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Incubus Keith (Voltron), Keith is white-haired because why not, Lance is irresistible he attracts demons, M/M, Mild Horror, Musician Keith (Voltron), Reuploaded! due to reasons, Sexual Tension, Slow Burn, There will be NO noncon elements, Writer Lance (Voltron), alcohol use, alter ego, but emotionally, mythical creatures, nothing - Freeform, so thicc you can cut it with an axe, this fic is gonna kill me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-02-28 22:28:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13281156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dean_colette/pseuds/petals
Summary: Keith.Looking at him like this…Even when his mullet was replaced by long white hair that was splayed on his bedsheets- God, that shouldn't be so attractive- it was…he was undeniably Keith. Lance reached out and brushed his hair to reveal his nape. The mark…the mark was still glowing.What the fuck was happening?They met in a dream.(In which Lance's dreams were haunted by a mysterious man that had more connection to him than he had expected.)





	Chained Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Posted this a few days ago, took it down, only to post it back lol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!  
> I first posted an Incubus Keith fic [here](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwkwardBurrito/pseuds/AwkwardBurrito_VLD) a few months ago. But you won't see that anymore! I deleted it and ooohhhhh my god, I cringed so much while reading it aaaaahhhhh. Anyway, before rewriting it, I considered writing an Incubus Lance instead. Incubus Lance and Incubus Keith have the same appeal to me.  
> If you came here from my other fic (apologies if I haven't updated that hfdtudyk I promise I'm on it) you probably saw me asking for opinions whether to write Incubus Lance or Incubus Keith, cause I can't choose.  
> Lance actually got more 'votes' than Keith but reading the comments and doing some research both on Ao3 and Tumblr, I realized that this fandom is lacking of Incubus Keith fics…sooooo…  
> *Lance voice* Now we gotta fix it.  
> XD  
> I hope I don't disappoint those who prefer Incubus Lance D: Don't worry, fellas. I have a lot planned for Lance. And for Keith. This fic is going to destroy me lol. Make sure to read the tags!  
> Anyway, here is the first chapter!

_“All the stories are true.”_

_-Cassandra Clare (The Mortal Instruments)_

****

Once the sun was down, calm darkness enveloped the place. The light of the burning orb was replaced by the shining stars and crescent moon in the sky. Moonlight, starlight and city lights illuminating the area. The noise of car engines and shouts of commands and requests from busy working people were now turned into an eerie quietness, a silent hum of pop music could be heard from a distance. Heat turned into an chill breeze of wind.

In the middle of the night, most residents were in deep slumber.

Unbeknownst to them was the figure that, unlike them, was awake at most nights. Invisible to the human eye, he was a gust of wind for mortals.

Large indigo eyes with no traces of white around it, scanned the area from where he was located, black wings flapping softly to keep him afloat. Feathers fell but before they reached the ground, they were nothing but sparkles of dust. His loose white pants flowing by the wind, supported by a thick white belt around his waist, showing off the white gladiator sandals that reached just below his knees.

The man raised his head, his gaze falling to the dark sky. He raised a pale hand as if he was trying to grasp some of the stars.

His movements stretched his form-fitting long-sleeved shirt that covered most of his upper body except for his back. It was low behind, showing off pale and smooth skin. The black wings complementing him.

With a hum, he lowered his head and hand.

His eyes landed on a sliding window. Blue curtain was blocking his view inside but it was slightly opened, wind blowing from the crack, making the curtain sway.

Curiously, the man made his way to it. His long, white hair flowing to the air. It was braided from the base of his neck and reached his waist. Short strands falling in front of his face.

When the man reached the window, he pushed it to one side and let the soft breeze of air sneak in before stepping inside, sandals softly hitting the floor. His wings fluttered on his back before they disappeared in thin air and without them, he almost looked like a normal human.

Almost.

It was dark inside, the lights outside barely reaching in. But it was enough to see the figure in the bed, in the middle of the room, just a few steps away from him.

The man walked closer to it- to him. His steps light, as if he was still floating even without his wings. Once he was near the bed, he crouched. The human’s face about three inches away from him.

White brows knitted in confusion, he tilted his head as he examined the human.

He was lying on his back, blankets reached his waist where his hands were on top of the other. Brown hair splayed on the pillow like a halo. There was a tight white mask on his face, eyes covered by an eye mask. Pink lips that looked soft and smooth were parted. He was inhaling through his nose, exhaling through his mouth.

He looked peaceful.

And despite his covered features, the human was surely beautiful.

The man leaned in until his nose was almost brushing the human’s cheek. On his next breath, a sweet scent invaded his senses. Something sweet and warm. Something delectable.

He licked his lips.

Raising a hand, he brought a finger near the mortal’s face and hovered it above him. Tracing his features but not touching him. Careful. He was careful. As if the human would just wake up any second and see the man watching him on his sleep.

Forehead...down to his nose...to his lips, to where the finger stayed a tad bit longer as he felt the huffs of warm air from him...to his neck. His Adam’s apple was bobbing slightly, the man watched with interest. He had a long neck. Smooth. Soft. He wanted to touch it. Watch as the human shiver. Watch as he lean to the touch.

And he was about to lower his finger to do just that when a hand swatted him away and if it wasn’t for his quick reflex, the human would had almost ‘touched’ him.

He couldn’t see the human’s expression clearly, but judging from the displeased stretched of his lips, he could only imagine the scowl marring his features. The hand fell to his side.

A giggle left his lips. Interesting.

He stood and joined his hands on his back. Smiling, the man leaned down until he was a breath away from the human’s lips. Then softly, he blew a breath against him.

 

The mortal’s eyes snapped open from behind the mask. Pushing it upwards, he sat and scanned the room. His blue eyes half-dazed, half-tired.

None.

A finger touched his lips. Something...something was there. Something chilly yet burning.

His eyes fell on the open window. The blue curtain billowed as wind passed.

He scowled, wondering if he had somehow forgotten to close it again.

 

****

“I’m telling you, Pidge, our apartment is haunted!”

“Lance, it’s not. Stop telling everyone that.”

“But Hunk- “

Seemed like Hunk had decided that Lance talked enough as he stuffed a muffin in his open mouth. Lance scowled as he held the desert and removed it, but not before biting a mouthful. “Rude. I was talking, you know?” The words were muffled and barely comprehensible. Pidge glanced at him, giving a dirty look at his state (which, okay yeah, maybe he wasn’t the most handsome when his cheeks were puffed like this and crumbs were on the corner of his mouth) before turning her attention back to her laptop.

“Hunk is more of a scaredy-cat than you, no offense Hunk- “

“None taken.”

“- so if he’s saying that your apartment isn’t haunted, then I know who to believe.” She took a sip of her soda before shutting off the laptop. She leaned back on her seat and raised an unimpressed brow at him. “What is it this time? Someone’s watching you while you’re taking a shower?”

Hunk snorted. “Seems like you have an admirer, Lance.” He chewed off the remaining of his chocolate cake. He propped his elbow and rested his cheek on his palm. “But seriously, buddy, our place is neat.”

Lance at the two of them before swallowing his food. He reached for his milkshake and unabashedly drank it. He would be neater but he had a serious topic that needed to be discussed. But his friends wouldn’t take him seriously! The audacity! He slammed the glass to the table and accepted the napkin Hunk offered to wipe the milk mustache he surely had. “This is serious, guys!” he said after. “First of all, please no. I don’t really know what to feel if someone invisible is peeking at me while showering, okay? Why did you need to make me imagine that?”

“But you’re not opposed to someone not invisible peeking at you while showering?” Hunk clarified.

Lance pushed his hair back before smirking and gesturing to all of him. As ‘all of him’ as he could considering half of his body was covered by the table. “Duh.” He was damn proud of his body.

“Can we talk about something else before this turns into another ‘Lance is a god among men’ conversation?” Pidge said, throwing a crumpled sandwich wrapper to Lance, ignoring his yelp as he caught the paper. Someone should tell Pidge to stop littering.

“We need to have more conversations like that, to be honest. I know we’re all stressed with college, pals! So here’s a proposition, every 4:00 PM, we talk about how great yours truly is. That will relieve you from all the stress and pain.” He gestured a finger gun and a wink before sighing and lumping on his seat. He shook his head. “I’m getting sidetracked!”

His outbursts caused a few heads to turn to them and the three of them just offered apologetic smiles and nods. Considering the diner was almost full, ‘few’ heads were not that few. The two side-eye glared at Lance who just mockingly stuck his tongue out.

Hunk turned to him. “As I said, there’s nothing fishy happening in our apartment. But if you’re really afraid, you can just sleep in my room. Are you afraid?”

Lance beamed at him. “Thanks, Hunk! But…” Lance pondered Hunk’s question. “…I’m not really afraid.”

“You sure you’re not afraid? We could be your bodyguards, but my service isn’t free.” Pidge’s smile was innocent but please, Lance knew better.

“Hush, Ginger Harry!” Pidge made a face at the nickname. Lance ignored her. “As I was saying before I was rudely interrupted, I’m not scared. More like…curious.”

Hunk hummed as a response, urging him to continue. But Lance had nothing more to say. He didn’t exactly know why he wasn’t afraid despite being 128% sure that someone was watching him on his sleep. It wasn’t freaky. There was some chills and double glances, but more than that…Lance was just curious. He didn’t like not knowing.

Lance had been waking up at odd times in the middle of the night for the past month. It wasn’t everyday so technically, he could just pass it off as normal occurrences. Those happened a lot.

But there was something, for the lack of better word, _weird_ about it. He swore there was someone beside him, there were eyes watching him. There was a breath close to him.

And that was when he would wake up.

Plus, he was sure he always closed that fucking window. So why was it opened when he wake up? Did the ‘ghost’ not live with them? And couldn’t they just pass by the wall or something like that that he had always seen in movies?

Lance scowled. Okay, so, this wasn’t any normal and stereotyped spirit. Maybe-

“ _The phone. The phone is ringing. The phone. We'll be right there- “_

His train of thought was cut off when he heard the loud sound coming from his pocket. From his phone. Alarm.

Lance fished his phone from his pocket and turned it off. Ah. He needed to go to class.

“You still hadn’t changed your alarm? Wonder pets? Really?” Pidge said but there was a playful smile on her face.

“It’s a beautiful song sang by beautiful animals. If you’re trying to shame me, you’re not succeeding! Come, Hunk! Cover me!”

“Yeah, sorry Pidge. I’m with Lance on this one. It’s truly a good song.”

“This is why I love you, Hunk!” His words were muffled as he ate the remaining of the muffin in two large bites. Stealing Pidge’s soda, he drunk it in one gulp, ignoring Pidge’s complain. He smiled widely at Hunk to show off his teeth and Hunk already know what that meant. Giving him a thumb up, Lance closed his mouth. Yup, his teeth were clean and no traces of chocolate anywhere. Handsome. Ka-ching. “Goodbye, babies. Don’t miss me too much.” He stood and slung his bag on one shoulder. Blowing one final kiss to his friends, Lance jogged to the entrance.

“Come again, Sir,” the security guard said with a smile as he opened the door for Lance.

Lance flashed him a grin. “Will do!”

Before completely leaving the place, he looked at his friends over his shoulder. “We need to talk about this ghost again!” Then he left. Leaving Pidge and Hunk subjected to the weird glances of everyone in the establishment. Heh. Served them right for ignoring Lance’s legitimate concern.

Before the glass door completely closed, he heard Hunk’s yell. “Lance! You didn’t pay for your food!”

Lance only laughed, a loud sound that received him curious glances, not looking back at the two of them. Served them right, indeed.

****

Sending a quick message to Hunk to tell him to have fun in work, which included a ridiculous amount of emojis, Lance pocketed his phone and ran out of the lecture hall. “Bye, Sir!” He tipped a salute to his professor, who nodded at his student, as he was out of the room. Maneuvering his way to the busy hall- _It’s 8:00 PM, why are there so many people?_ \- he left the building.

Once he was sure that he was away from the crowd, Lance tilted his head, hands in his pockets. Humming a gentle tone, Lance slowed down his steps. From his pace, it’d take at least five minutes for him to reach his destination.

The stars were especially bright tonight. The corner of Lance’s vision was slightly obscured by leaves of a tree and the white roof of the auditorium. From his spot, he couldn’t spot the moon, but surely, it was just there.

One particular blow of wind had Lance folding his arms across his chest to warm himself. _Why is it chilly tonight…_ He was only wearing a thin black shirt! Shivers ran down his spine at another blow.

Lance lowered and shook his head before fixing his gaze in front of him. A few students passed his field of vision but nevertheless, the area was quiet and scarce. Most students probably went to the first gate where the parking lot and dormitories were located. Lance himself would need to get back in there after he’s done. For now, he resumed his way to the third gate where the greenhouse was located.

Lance was working on his novel and he write the best when he was on his writing spots. He had several writing spots. And in the campus, it was the greenhouse. Something about the silence and faint smell of flowers, leaves and grass were making him productive.

He was still working on the world building and character sheets. He needed to set those up before starting to write the first draft. That was his writing process.

Too caught up with his thoughts, Lance almost missed the path that lead to the greenhouse. He was practically bouncing as he walked on the marbled stairs. It was dark, but the lamp posts coming from the entrance of the greenhouse was enough for him to see his path.

Once he reached the place, he fished the keys from his pocket (Asking for a copy of this from the Dean almost had him expelled, but oh well, he had it now. Wasn’t he just charming?) and opened the door.

Yup. This place was definitely feeding his creativity.

It wasn’t anything big, to be honest. But the tranquility and closed off space was comforting. The plants and flowers around him were pretty and nice to look at. And they were making him sentimental and metaphorical. Those two seemed to be a requirement of you were calling yourself a writer.

Lance made his way on one corner where the light was brighter. Aside from that, the rest of the place was dim.

There was a wooden bench on said corner and when Lance sat, it creaked and even that felt nice to hear. It was familiar and home-y. The pavement was hard and rocky against the material of his shoes, the leaves of the plant beside him was tickling his cheek (and as much as Lance liked that, he didn’t want it to poke his eye) and he moved away. The glass window was against the back of the bench and when Lance glanced outside over his shoulder, he was greeted by sight of the campus in all its dark, only illuminated by lights, glory.

Hm-mmm. Not gonna lie, Lance would’ve preferred if it was day and students and school staff were crowding the place. It wasn’t like he was trying to be creepy but human observing was second nature to him, both as a person and as a writer. Watching as these people walk or run around, it feed off Lance’s mind. He couldn’t help but wonder how these people were doing. Which of these people had early classes, which of these people failed an exam, which of these people just had the time of their lives, which of these people had their hearts broken, which of them got kissed… stuff like that.

He wanted to know what was going on in their lives.

And since he couldn’t exactly interview each of them without coming off as creepy, he was going to make stories of his own.

Lance sighed, a smile on his face. He really loved writing.

In front of him were red roses. The one directly in front of him hadn’t bloomed yet. Lance couldn’t wait to see it open. Call him cliché, but he loved roses. They were romantic and pretty.

Lance pulled his notebook and pen before sitting back and making himself comfortable. He flipped the pages and settled on the character sheet of his main character. He needed to ponder what kind of traits he would give him. As of now, he only had his appearance completed.

Lance made a face as he read it through. He couldn’t believe he gave his character a mullet.

_Name: None (Need to think of something simple but cool, ugh, I hate naming characters)_

_Nickname: Mullet Man (Will add more)_

_Age: 20_

_Sex: Male_

_Date of Birth: October something ugh_

_Appearance:_

_Height: 5’11”_

_Skin Tone: Light_

_Eye color: Indigo_

_Hairstyle: Mullet (I cursed him_ _with_ _a mullet, sorry character), Lock of hair in between his eyes_

_Body type: Lean_

_Posture: Confident_

_Other features:_

_Pink lips, thick eyebrows on fleek, sharp jaws it could kill a man, pointed nose._

Lance frowned at his notes. He’d definitely date his character if he could. That was cool considering his other protagonist would be a lot like him.

His notes were so informal but he preferred it this way. Much more personal and fun. Like he was actually talking to him and making fun of him.

_Basic, Appearance, Life, Attitude...hmmmm…_

Lance bit his lip as he studied the headings of his character sheet. Hm…he needed to fill up a lot. Though, he didn’t really need to answer all of those. He just needed to set up the foundation of their characters. Some things would just come up when writing a story. He may had made these characters, but they were their own persons. Writers made them, but they were the one telling the writers what they should do.

Lance loved that calculated spontaneity. He had an idea of what they should do, but they were the one deciding _how_ they’d do it.

Shaking his hand, he started making notes.

****

 _9:23PM…_ Lance’s phone said. He settled his bag on the passenger seat before starting the car’s engine. 15-minute drive to his shared apartment with Hunk, not that far. He clicked the radio and _Last Young Renegade_ by _All Time Low_ beamed from the speaker. “Cool.” Lance liked _All Time Low._

 _“Caught in the eye of a hurricane, darlin’…_ ” Lance sang along with much more enthusiasm and exaggerated tone than what was needed to the song. Pidge and Hunk weren’t here to stop him and it wasn’t like he would stop even if they were there.

His time in the greenhouse was productive. Though, he did end up working on the appearance of his other protagonist and as expected, he resembled him a lot. Oh well, he would never stop self-projecting in his stories.

The road was empty, lamp posts lighting up the path and sidewalk. Lance glanced at his sides every now and then just to observe more.

 _“You were the best thing that ever happened to me…And I’ll keep on_ \- Fuck!” Lance’s eyes widened as he stepped on the brake. _What…what…fuck…what…?_

Lance just saw someone who resembled his character. A lot.

He opened the door and stepped out of the car. His head turned side-by-side, desperately looking for any glimpse of the man. He only saw him for a second through his sideview mirror, but the resemblance was uncanny. That was how he imagined him in his head…

But looking around, there were no signs of him.

Lance sighed and gently bumped his head to the roof of his car. Ugh. Maybe he was seeing things because of how devoted he was to this novel. Staring through a distance at the spot where he should be, Lance shook his head before climbing back in. “Ugh, Lance…you drink too much coffee…”

He started the engine. Frowning, he glanced at the side view mirror. He was…he was there. Walking through the sidewalk, head held high. He was looking confident and his hair may be tied in a ponytail but he was sure that was a mullet. He imagined his character in that set up. His eyes were large indigos, light reflecting on them…

And then he just disappeared…

Shiver ran down Lance’s spine.

He took three steady breaths to calm the rapid beating of his heart. He hadn’t even noticed it was racing in his chest.

Fuck.

He needed to stop drinking coffee.

****

It was past midnight when Lance resigned himself under the confinements of his blanket. His mattress was soft against his back and he moaned upon feeling the comfort and warmth that was starting to seep in him. His face mask was quickly tightening and Lance stopped himself before he start touching his face. He did that a lot when he first started using this stuff and it wasn’t pretty and neat.

He glanced at the window. Closed. Good. Okay, that was close. He was sure of that. If somehow, it ended up being open in the morning again, Lance was certain that something really was haunting him. He reached for the lampshade and turned it off and closed his eyes.

Darkness filled his vision.

The combined silence, softness of his bed against his back, and warmth of his blanket above him was all Lance needed.

And in a few minutes, he was asleep.

****

_Drip…_

_Drip…_

_Drip._

It was raining. Droplets of water falling from gray clouds down to the pavement, where they would then splutter before forming puddles on the ground.

Lance didn’t know why he was noticing this but everything seemed like they were in slow motion that the slightest detail was observable. He could count the droplets in front of him if he would just try. He raised his palm, waiting for them to drench him.

But none. For some reasons, these droplets were evading him. Moving onto different directions away from his palm when they were almost reaching him. Being the only one here which was dry was making him out of place.

He was in a park, but it was an unfamiliar place to him. The details were blurry but around him were benches, slides, seesaws, sand boxes…Typical playground park. The swing he was sitting on was short and wasn’t exactly comfortable for someone like him with such long limbs.

What was he doing here? Lance didn’t know.

“Good day.”

The raspy voice got Lance’s attention. He turned his head on the side as he heard the tinkling of the chain handles of the swing. Something-… _someone_ sat on there.

His features were fuzzy but Lance could make up the braided white hair, white clothes, pale skin...pink lips…and indigo eyes. Just indigo…no white around it…

He may be blurry but he was pretty, Lance could tell.

So what did Lance do?

“Is this what heaven looks like, angel?” He smirked before winking at him.

Yep. He flirted.

The man was…like him. He was dry despite all this rain. Cool. Seeing those droplets moving out of their way was cool to watch.

“Angel…How funny.” It was whispered that Lance almost didn’t hear it. The tone was playful but there was something dark lying underneath it. Something secretive. An inside joke to the man only that he would never share to anyone. Especially to Lance.

“No need to act humble, dearest. You can’t deny the angelic beauty.” Lance tilted his head in a way that he knew appeared sexy. It showed off his neck and the bump of his Adam’s apple.

It got the desired effect as the man’s eyes lowered to his neck. It was hard to tell when he didn’t have any whites in his eyes but the drop of his eyelids gave him away.

“I’m about to start thinking that you’re purposely mocking me.”

“I would never.”

“You smell good.”

Now that caught Lance off guard. Yeah, he had been told that he smelled good (and he really did) but it wasn’t usually the first compliment he’d get. Usually it was a comment on his skin, or his blue eyes.

But this guys started this out by saying he smelled good.

Cute.

“Yeah. I only use the best soaps and cologne. You’d appreciate it more if you’re closer to me.”

The man smiled. “You don’t want that. But, maybe some other time.”

“I can tell you that I want it. But, okay. No pressure.”

“You smell good,” the man repeated. “There’s something special about you.”

“I am special.”

“Humble, too.”

“I only say the truth, hey!”

He laughed. A rich deep sound and oh wow, Lance wanted to hear it again. He didn’t have the opportunity to say more as when he blinked, the man wasn’t on the swing anymore.

He was in front of him. Standing between Lance’s spread legs, hands on the railings, just above Lance’s own.

So close. But not quite touching.

Lance forgot how to breathe for a second when the man leaned in to him, his braided hair falling on one shoulder.

“You look good,” he breathed out when he was only a few inches away from Lance’s lips, breath ghosting over him.

“You too,” Lance answered, awestruck. His breath smelled minty yet it was warm.

He just smirked before closing his eyes and moving closer. Lance closed his eyes, waiting for the soft lips to land on his.

Seconds passed…

And it never came.

When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was the bright light peeking from between the curtain crack. Lance sat, blanket pooling to his waist.

He bit his lip.

What a weird dream.

He glanced at the clock on his bedside table. _8:25 AM_.

His eyes fell on the window. It was closed.

A hand reached for his chest to grip the material of his shirt. His mind was blank. No coherent thoughts were passing in him. They were nothing but unrelated words.

But there was a race in his chest.

He remembered the dream and the blurry man. Indigo eyes staring right through his soul. So big and glossy he could almost see himself from them.

Weird.

****

Several days had passed.

It was a weird dream, yeah. But Lance had weird dreams. He was not going to lose his mind thinking about Angel Dude and how creepily pretty his eyes were. Lance tried to remember his face, but it was hard when all he was seeing was a blurry man. Angel Dude would be a good and interesting character. Lance included him in his character sheets even though he had no idea where to include him in his novel. Or if he would even include him in that novel. He would surely stand out in an odd, odd way.

Lance hummed as he arranged the books in the shelves. Seriously, he would never understand how some people couldn’t spend a second of their life putting something back on its original place where they got it. And books were fragile! Even with these plastic wrapped around them, they could be easily destroyed and tore.

Once he was done with the _Sci-Fi_ aisle _,_ Lance pushed the cart and moved to the _Young_ _Adults_ aisle. Several spots were empty and Lance hummed again, this time in satisfaction, as he reached for the books in the cart and placed them in the shelves.

_Cassandra Clare, Cassandra Clare…_

Lance stopped his movements and stared at the _City of Heavenly Fire_ in his hands. He had finished The Mortal Instruments series a few months ago and it was, no doubt, one of his favorites. For a few weeks, he had slept with all six books on his bedside table because waking up to them felt like home. He would smile everytime he saw them in bookstores. It was like greeting a friend. Seeing your favorite books in bookshelves in stores felt like seeing an old friend.

But now, he wasn’t staring at the book with recognition.

The cover just reminded him of Angel Dude. Ugh. _So much for not being weird about it._ _Clary’s_ pale skin and white dress reminded Lance a lot of Angel Dude. And for some weird reason, _Jonathan’s_ dark figure behind reminded him of those endless pools of indigo.

Lance shook his head. _Stop being weird about it, Lance._ Sighing, he took his eyes off the book and resumed his work. Thinking about fictional pretty boys wouldn’t pay his rent and bring food on the table.

****

“Done!” Lance slammed his hands against the table as he just finished a writing commission he received the other week. It was a fanfiction and frankly, Lance wasn’t that familiar with the characters but his commissioner’s explanation was detailed enough for him to know what to do. And now it was done! He would just edit it tomorrow cause his brain was dead tired.

He closed his laptop and stretched. He had been sitting on this chair, in front of his laptop, long enough that his shoulders felt a bit numb. “Hmm…” Lance moaned when he craned his neck. He peeked at the clock. 1:36 AM. Time for his beauty rest.

He had already washed his face before he started writing so he only needed to apply his face mask. If Lance wasn’t that concerned in his looks, he wouldn’t even bother to. He was tired. But ugh, the things he do to be this flawless.

Lance blew himself a kiss on the mirror before making his way back to his room, and to the confinements of his bed.

The window was open now to allow the cool air to reach inside. Nothing extra creepy was happening to him the past days so maybe whatever it was that was haunting had enough and decided to stop. Good. As much as he liked the idea of someone admiring him, it being someone unseenable was doing the exact opposite of fondness to him.

Lance turned off the lampshade. The moon and stars were his only source of illumination. He closed his eyes and let sleep takeover.

****

Lance was in his room, he could tell that much despite the unclear details.

His back against the soft mattress, Lance squirmed only to feel the restriction of his hands. Glancing up, he saw that his hands were tied on the headboard. It wasn’t tight enough to hurt, but it wasn’t loose for him to get away either. Weird.

He was only in his blue pajama pants, his shirt was somehow discarded on the floor.

“Comfortable?”

The voice startled Lance. He hadn’t noticed that there was someone in the room aside from him.

But there he was, sitting on Lance’s study table. He was wearing nothing but a red robe that reached his ankles, the sash around his waist securing it. The thin satin outlining his figure. His legs were crossed and between the crack of the robe, his legs and thighs were exposed.

Lance’s breathing grew heavier. He studied the man’s features.

Black hair (a mullet?), indigo eyes, sharp jaws, plum (kissable) lips…

_Handsome._

_Pretty._

_Hot._

Those were the first adjectives that crossed Lance’s mind. But something was nagging in him… He was...he was…

He looked _familiar._ But Lance couldn’t remember where he had seen him.

When he didn’t answer, the man stood from his seat and walked towards Lance. Each steps were slow, as if he was dragging time or he was driving Lance crazy by glimpses of his legs and chest. Both. Probably both.

When he was beside the bed, he smiled - wicked, wicked, wicked smile- before brushing the strands of Lance’s hair that stuck on his forehead. His touch was cool, and Lance shivered when those fingers lowered to his jaw and lower, to rest on his pulse.

Lance swallowed the lump in his throat. Heat was coiling in his stomach and he cursed himself for being so easily riled up. He was 21, for fuck’s sake.

His fingers left hot trails as he traced down his throat, to the center of his chest, to his abdomen...until they rested on the hem of his pants. The touch was teasing before they left him. Lance momentarily mourned their loss until the man climbed on the bed and kneeled between Lance’s spread legs.

Lance’s breath hitched and his eyes widened as the man leaned down and kissed the front of his throat, lightly nibbling at the skin. _Oh my fucking God. I’m gonna get laid_.

“Is this okay?” the man whispered against his throat. He sounded so sexy that Lance’s dick stirred in his pants.

“Ye-yeah…” Lance squeaked. He squeaked, what the fuck. He was more suave than this!

The man above him seemed to like his answer as his rough hands ran on Lance’s sides. Lance closed his eyes, lips parted. He settled comfortably on the mattress, head on a pillow as he let the man do as he pleased. His breathing and beating heart were loud even to his own ears. His blood flowing hot in his veins.

The wet kisses trailed to his chest before his mouth closed around one nipple before sucking hard. Lance moaned, back arching. Tongue flattened against it before pulling away with a loud pop. He did the same to the other nipple before kissing down his stomach. Lance felt the smile against him when his muscles clenched from the attention.

“Watch me.” It was a command. Soft and low, but it was a command. Lance obliged.

Blue met indigo. One pair, half-lidded from lust. The other, glinting excitingly.

The man (Lance couldn’t believe he was still calling him ‘the man’, fuck it) leaned back only to pull Lance’s pants and threw it somewhere in the room. He wasn’t wearing any underwear and his cock twitched at the sudden cool air. He had barely been touched but he was already this hard…

Lance watched as Red (he was going to call him Red for now, go figure why he chose it), slid the robe off of his shoulders but let it pool on his waist, the sash keeping it from falling. Then he settled back on his previous position between Lance’s legs.

Lance moaned at the sight of exposed skin. Red was lean, with just the right amount of muscles. Lance wanted to lick those abs.

He made a move to reach out to him when the existence of the bind stopped him. Lance groaned, unsexily. “Can you take this off, beautiful?” No one could resist his puppy dog eyes, for sure.

Red tilted his head, a dangerous smirk playing on his lips. “Why?”

“Because,” Lance tugged his hands, “I want to touch you.”

Red hummed before shaking his head. “Nope.”

Lance didn’t have a time to complain when a hand wrapped around him. “A-ahh- _ohhh…”_ The hand was stroking him in a fast fast pace that had his toes curling, the heat in his stomach and chest was getting more intense

“If you take your eyes off me, I’ll stop. Okay?”

Lance could only nod, too desperate for more contact and more friction to think of anything else. Red liked his answer as he smiled at him. “Good.”

Then he leaned down and took Lance in his mouth.

Lance moaned and he almost closed his eyes when he saw Red staring at him even when he was down there. He looked so good. Watching as he pleasure Lance with his mouth, pink lips stretched around him.

Lance was not going to last long.

Red pulled back slightly to lick and suck on the tip before inching Lance back to his mouth, head bobbing in fast and long strokes. Oh God, did he not have a gag reflex? Lance felt his head hit the back of Red’s throat a couple of times now and _oh fuck oh fuck_ he was so close to coming, but it was so good and he didn’t want it to stop.

Lance’s hair was falling down and Lance wanted to brush it for him but these fucking binds wouldn’t let him…

Red hummed around him and the vibration made Lance shiver. His moans, groans and grunts were mingling in the air with the slurping noises coming from Red’s mouth.

Red’s hands were on his ass and when Lance felt the slight pushed, he understood what he wanted. He started bucking his hips in time with Red’s bobs. He liked it, judging from the playful gleam in his eyes and how he somehow managed to smirk despite a mouthful of dick.

The next seconds passed by in a haze. Lance, bucking his hips up. Red, swallowing him down, hands kneading his ass.

Not once did they take their eyes off each other.

And there it was. The familiar sensation that had him arching his back, his muscles clenching as a broken moan ripped from his throat.

And then he _came._

****

Lance woke up with a start. He sat abruptly.

Panting, the first thing he noticed was the loud shrilling of his alarm clock. He ignored it. It would stop on its own sometime.

The second thing he noticed was the warm stickiness in his pants.

Lance threw the blanket off of him and stared at the wet spot in front of his pants. _Oh_ _Jesus_ _Christ_ , he sure made a mess. With a groan, he flopped back on the bed and reached to turn off his alarm. It was getting annoying.

Feeling his cheeks warming up, the dream played in his head.

That was so...so...so good. It was almost pathetic how that dream blowjob was the best blowjob he had experienced up until now. Fuck, just remembering it was causing his dick to harden fast.

And the guy…

He looked familiar. Very familiar. Lance was sure he had seen him multiple times, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint who and where and when...

Only when his eyes fell on the notebook on his study table did he understand where he saw Red.

That was where his notebook that contained his character sheet was placed.

Lance’s eyes widened and he almost swallowed his tongue. He coughed in his fist instead.

_Oh fuck._

****

List of things that were not weird:

  1. Dreaming of your Original Character. It happened a lot to him in the past and frankly, Lance loved it. At least, even only in his dreams, he got to interact with his characters and know them from an outsider’s point of view.
  2. Wet dreams. Granted, the last time he had a wet dream was when he was 17 and even then, they were never that vivid (and fucking good) but still, those were pretty normal. Nothing to scream over.



List of things that were weird:

  1. Wet dreams involving himself and his OC.



 

Yeah, Lance thought he wouldn’t mind dating his OC if he could but for him to had...that was pretty weird and creepy. He wasn’t creepy! He was not purposely lusting over someone he created in his head.

He wasn’t even planning to add ‘gives amazing head’ in his character skills! And he did not imagine his OC’s mouth to be that good and warm, wrapped around him… But now…, okay maybe he should consider this stuff when making characters-

Heat creeped up Lance’s neck as he dismissed the thought. Nope, no, no, nope! No thinking of that. Not now, not today, not ever!

He was just sexually frustrated, that was all. That was why he was dreaming of someone attractive and hot sucking him off. Yep. Nothing more. He couldn’t remember when the last time he had the presence of another body warming him up that his subconscious was conjuring up _those_ images. God, he needed to get laid.

Lance slapped himself. Ignoring the weird looks he received, he continued on his way to the greenhouse. He had one more hour before his first class and he wanted to...cleanse his mind in his safe place. And it was a hot morning, and the airconditioning of the establishment would cool him down.

The door was already unlocked. Hm. The gardener was probably in.

When he entered, the usual sight and scent greeted him. But there was more…

Lance frowned, making his way to his spot. There was a sound coming from there. Light humming, strumming of guitar…

Lance froze when he saw the figure sitting on his bench. His head was bowed as he watched his fingers plucking the guitar strings, lock of black hair hanging between his eyes, the hair on his back sliding on his shoulder.

Lance’s eyes widened. His throat was dry, as contrast to his rapidly sweating hands. _Oh Jesus Christ, no, no, no. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck stop fucking with my life-_

He hadn’t realized that he was saying the words out loud until the man stopped strumming, raised his head and stared at him. Eyebrows furrowed, large indigo eyes glinting with curiosity. _Oh no no no! He had seen those eyes in his head!_

His lips were set in a contemplative pout. Those fucking lips that were wrapped around his dick last night in his dreams.

Lance’s lips parted. “I- ah…” He tried to say something, anything, but words seemed to left him. He licked his dry lips before closing his mouth. God, he must had looked like a fucking idiot.

And then the man spoke. And oh God. Even the voice was similar. Deep, raspy, hot. He could almost hear his groans and moans as he swallowed him whole -

“Can I help you?”

****

List of things that were weird:

  1. Wet dreams involving himself and his OC.
  2. Seeing an exact replica of said OC the morning after the wet dream.



**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmmmmm-hmmmm-hmmmmmm… :3  
> As a writer, I can say that I'm self-projecting too much on Lance cgjciyi  
> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are very much welcome and encouraged :D  
> The playlist for this is incomplete but I'll add more to it!  
> [My tumblr](https://burritalks.tumblr.com/)  
> 


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